It Starts with the Dreams
by MirwenAnareth
Summary: Istari wakes up in a strange land after a near-death experience. What she doesn't know is that she lived through a catastrophe that changed her world forever. And to top it off, she is the one who supposedly saved it. Or is she? - A story based on a standalone Skyrim mod called Enderal: The Shards of Order.
1. Awakening (Prologue)

**It Starts with the Dreams**

 **Summary  
** Istari wakes up in a strange land after a near-death experience. What she doesn't know is that she lived through a catastrophe that changed her world forever. A story based on a standalone Skyrim mod called Enderal: The Shards of Order.

 **Disclaimer**  
Skyrim and The Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda Game Studios.  
Enderal and the Vyn series belong to the SureAI team.  
I have not created any of these titles nor am I in contact with their authors or publishers. However, this is to express my undying thanks to both teams for their awesome work and the opportunity to produce this fanfic.

 **Foreword**  
Hey guys! Just a quick note before you delve into my story. This is a story based on a standalone Skyrim mod called **Enderal: The Shards of Order**. This mod was created as a total conversion, meaning the story has nothing in common with Skyrim or any of TES titles. That said, there is no section for it here on Fanfiction so I'm simply putting it in TES series where it fits the best. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless because Enderal has a beautiful, deep story with a vast variety of colorful characters and a lot of new options.  
To those who haven't played Enderal: Rest assured, you don't need to play Enderal, Nehrim, Arktwend or any of the Vyn series games to understand this fanfic. I will explain what happened in Enderal on the background, so whoever wants to read it, go ahead and do so.

And just a piece of warning – this is an M rated story and I have a good reason for rating it M. It will contain excessive violence, disturbing scenes, foul language, maybe even sex (though that will _not_ be explicit). I will not restrain myself, as the original story was quite rough as well.

And without further delay, let's begin the story!

* * *

 **Chapter 01: Awakening (Prologue)**

She had to speak with her daddy. Apparently he had something important to say to her, though she hadn't the slightest idea how she knew. He had not told her, no one had. She was there, at this peculiar place surrounded by rocks and tall, hooded statues, sitting on an empty cart parked by a ruin that appeared to have been a dwelling, having a clear view of a winding road that slithered through the grasses, uphill to a small building on the top. It was a beautiful evening and the sun flooded the place with bright light somewhere between the shades of gold and crimson. The fresh air was inviting to a delightful walk, and yet, there was melancholy in the air, despair even. Something that did not quite fit, but at the same time it belonged here. It was linked to this place, as though an eternal curse was cast upon it.

She slowly rose from the cart and looked around. Three crosses had been raised slightly afar, each of them bearing a withered corpse, each of them brightly ablaze. She stood there for a while before turning away from them, partly to force herself to focus on other things, partly due to sudden wave of disgust that shook her body – if that was what it was.

She could not feel her flesh, nor could she touch anything as far as she was concerned. There was just the conscious being that kept lingering there, as though it had always been there. Still, this place was alien to her, in spite of clearly recalling it from a distant memory.

With little hesitation, she started walking the path ahead, slowly ascending the gentle slope to the house. A sound of blade on wood greeted her, gaining in strength as she approached, and a man in plain farmer tunic appeared in her sight, fully focused on chopping down the woodblocks that he took from the pile by his feet. The swings of his axe were swift and well-practiced, but he stopped his motion as soon as he noticed a person approaching. As he looked up to her, he gave her a smile, warm on the outside, yet ice cold when one looked beyond the curtain of his twisted manners.

"Ah, look who's here," the man said in a gentle tenor. "Welcome back, my child." As she opened her mouth to reply, he spoke again. "Let me guess. You have found it."

She did not know how to respond to it. A feeling that she should not be here, having this conversation with the man, crawled into her mind and ate on it like a worm, but she was already here and a reply was expected of her.

"Yes, I have," she stated plainly.

"But you have lost it again."

"I… no, it wasn't me." She did not search for the answer. It had appeared before her, as though it lived inside her. _It wasn't me._ It was never her.

"Oh my child, why again… you disappoint me. You're making me very unhappy. But let's forget about all the depressing stuff. Come, I prepared the elk I caught. Thanks to the Creator, we can finally enjoy our crisp piece of meat."

He nudged her gently towards the entrance to the house. She did not protest and treaded inside in silence, carefully inspecting every bit of it. It seemed like a normal house, equipped for both farming and hunting, occasional trophy or picture decorating its plain wooden walls. Barrels and baskets with various fruits were lined along them. Blood was splattered over the pelt that covered the floor in the room to her right and it made her shudder inside, but even scarier was the table to her left. Two people were seated at it, linen bags draped over their heads to cover whatever was underneath – and she was quite certain she did not want to know. Four plates were prepared on the table and the supposed meals made her want to scream.

A child rested on top of each of them, every one of them misshaped in some horrendous way. She took a step back, but the sound of her father's joyful whistling made her freeze in place. And suddenly she remembered why this place sent shivers down her spine, why she hated it so much.

It was always at this very point. The sun had finally set beyond the western horizon and the only source of light were the chandeliers scattered about the room. The silence, albeit interrupted by an occasional crackle, was suffocating, but the sudden footsteps and silent whistling, too merry to foreshadow a happy occasion, made her heart stop. Her eyes locked on the father as though some invisible force made them to, preventing her from turning away.

"Won't you eat with us?" he invited with the same smile he had exhibited outside.

"This is all my fault," she whispered. And once again, she had no control over what she was saying.

"See? And that is why I told you to listen," the father said with apparent urgency in his voice. "But no, instead of honoring the Creator with life of modesty and devotion, you only dream. You dream, and you destroy with your dreams, because you are not capable of anything else. But soon, my child, you will burn, just like we all did. You always thought you'd left us all behind, like old ragged shoes you don't need anymore, but you were wrong."

She gasped as the ground around her caught on fire. She could feel the heat, the floating ashes burned her eyes and bit into her skin, and she felt as if she was melting into this dreadful place. The father snarled and his eyes gleamed red, the fiery color accented by the flames that reflected in them.

"You cannot escape and you cannot change! You never could and you never will! Now where is that meat?! Where is my bloody crisp piece of meat?!" With every word, his voice gained strength and depth that had not been there before, filled with venom and blood.

The father was ablaze. Everything was drowning in blinding scorching hell, hot, pressing on her lungs, dulling her senses until she could see, hear or feel no more. There was a flash of white light.

 _I led them to the light… I alone…_

Voices echoed through her mind, mingling in a deafening cacophony, speaking all at once, shouting, whispering, crying… She could hear each and every one of them as though she was there with them, in many separate timelines at once. They were a part of her. She had the feeling she had once cherished them, nurtured them like her own children and used them to do something grand. But they were a so far in the past now, empty and forsaken, and soon they faded until there was nothing left. It was quiet. The kind of absolute quiet when you hear your heart beating. Then one last voice spoke.

 _Breathe…_

Istari's heart was racing, accompanied by beads of sweat that surfaced on her forehead when she opened her eyes and sat up abruptly, gasping for air while clutching her knees. She was trembling heavily, fighting the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes.

"No," she whispered in a muffled voice. She was not even certain what she was saying no to, but it was the first word that came to her mind, and so she articulated it thoughtlessly. Her clear, crisp alto rang through the room and bounced from wall to wall, making her look around. Finally, she could see her body, clad in rough colorless tunic and ragged with scratches and bruises underneath the rather thick layer of dirt. She felt unbelievably stiff and her head was heavy, but she denied herself the luxury of laying herself back on the strangely inviting floor. Instead, she stretched her arms and continued studying her surroundings.

After a closer examination, she discovered she was in a strange, small building made in stone. It had no roof and the windows were but gaping holes in the walls. The structure was partially covered in lichen and moss, and light shone from the outside, coming from an unknown source. Then her gaze stopped at a figure lying next to her and her eyes widened. She reached out to the man instinctively and felt his pulse, then covered her mouth in shock.

"Sirius," she breathed after a while. So the companion whom she had met on the ship had not survived. But yes, she remembered. She recalled the fateful night when the two of them, hiding below decks on their escape from Nehrim buffeted by rebellions and civil war, had been discovered by a pair of sailors searching for some sort of chest for their captain. She and Sirius had given the poor sods the beating of their life and tied them up, planning to leave the ship as soon as it as much as touched solid ground, but a strange veiled woman had gotten in their way. They had been exposed and punished, Sirius ending up with a stab in the heart by the hands of the captain herself, while she had been tied to his body and sent deep into the ocean.

The rest was a mystery even to her, but now she was here, scared, alone, in a strange place with nowhere to go. Her dream escape had not quite gone as planned.

She forced herself to stand up, grabbing a stone protruding from the nearest wall. Her body refused to listen to her, as though it had not been used in quite some time. Now that she thought about it, that might have as well been the case. She staggered outside, which, in fact, was not outside at all. The structure was standing inside a gigantic cave, wild and beautiful, filled with ruined remains of ancient structures covered in ruffled greenery. A small river traversed the place and hummed gently over the innumerous rocks and pebbles that made up its bed. The light was shining from a crevice on the lower side of the cave which was the only thing that looked new, sharp and unpolished. She was sure that there must have been a cave-in recently.

Istari gave one last painful look to Sirius before treading uncertainly to the prospective exit. She took a few breaths, and with every one of them she gained new confidence. Soon, her step was stable and firm, and she increased her speed to get to the sunlight which she missed dearly.

The outside air welcomed her with unexpected chill, painful and pleasant at the same time. She felt her mind clear and her eyes focus, and suddenly it was easier to breathe. She drew in the fresh air and a smile formed on her lips by itself. She immediately made it disappear, having a quick flashback from her dream. So much happened without her consent. So many words said, so many deeds done. But not anymore, not this time. From now on, she would work for her dream, she would do what she wanted, when she wanted, and no one would be there to hurt her over her lack of the so called devotion. And she could end the suffering, once and for all.

She walked up a graveled slope, struggling against the avalanche of small rocks that bit her bare feet, occasionally rubbing the skin on her upper arms to warm herself up. At last, she reached the top and a new land opened before her. As she set her eyes upon it, her jaw dropped and she stood there motionlessly, half in awe, half in terror.

There lay a wasteland, with trees, animals, vegetation, but they were all dead, appearing to be made of some strange stony substance. Scorched, yet cold. Vivid, yet grey. As though time had stopped here, or maybe she had found herself in a strangely colorless painting where everything had been caught in motion and frozen for eternity. Amidst all that shone crystals of colored ice, mostly bright pink, but scarcely turning shades of violet, blue or green.

She slowly shook her head in disbelief, forgetting the cold, the discomfort and even the death of her friend. At least one thing she knew. Wherever she was, it was not Nehrim.

* * *

 _And the first chapter done. Just two quick notes that I'd like to add._

 _First, if you're not acquainted with my stories – please, pardon any mistakes you may find there, since I'm not a native speaker, not even bilingual and I'm still working on my English. Your feedback is welcome and I certainly don't mind nitpicking in form of pointing out typos or any kind of errors. I will definitely welcome any kind of constructive criticism as that is what helps me improve the most._

 _Second, to the readers of my other stories – I know, I said I wouldn't and I still did. Sorry for that. I was really depressed today and I needed to calm myself a bit, so I chose this way. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on my other stories! Never! So rest assured. Next chapter of Strike is half done, it'll be up in no time._

 _And with that, see you guys in the next chapter and thanks for reading! Stay tuned!_

 _Mirwen_


	2. Lost Past

**Chapter 02: Lost Past**

Descending from a rather steep slope, Istari looked around in awe. Even she, an ordinary person from the lower classes, barely taught to read and write, could feel this place was filled with magic. She had passed an old temple, a strange vast building that seemed to be the only thing alive. It was as though it spoke to her, if that was even possible. The walls whispered a song older than the world itself.

For a moment or two, she thought that this temple was the cause behind this wasteland, that it had sucked out all life and taken it for itself. Then she denied it. It seemed to be more of a silent observer. Maybe it had not even been built by people. The architecture certainly seemed strange. The shapes it took were so simple, almost too simple to be thought up by a mere human, and the bridge that led to it was not even tangible. It was pure magic, holding together to be walked upon. And the temple was the only thing that was still standing, untouched by the disaster that had claimed everything else.

Istari sighed. Not even the temple offered anything to feed on, and so she had left, barefooted, with hardly any clothes on and without a weapon to defend herself. She made her way through the crystal forest, half admiring the beauty of it. It was so quiet her steps sounded like roaring thunders to her and she could hear her own breath. It made her ears throb loudly. She kept looking around, as though something was about to charge at her from behind a corner, but nothing came.

She walked on, hungry and parched, and every step exhausted her tremendously. The crystals subsided as she entered a valley, replaced by a forest of trees darker than anything she had ever seen. She remembered the infamous Death Pass and the Dark Forest in Nehrim. Barely anyone had ever dared set foot there, and those who did almost never returned. Few lived there and even fewer survived for long. It was full of unlife. Creatures of darkness resided there, ready to kill anything on sight. Istari had never visited it, but the image she always pictured in her mind when people told her about it became a reality here.

Occasional crystals were scattered about, but unlike the ones around the temple, these were colorless, emitting pale light that barely revealed anything but the ground beneath them. She decided to study them, but regretted it as soon as she approached.

A numbing wave flooded her body and mind and she suddenly felt very weak and fragile. She gasped, but every breath only made her condition worsen. With the last bit of her strength, she staggered away from the deadly crystals and their ghastly glow. She felt cold, but knew that she had a fever. The staggering soon turned into crawling as her legs could carry her no more. Then she stopped, breathless, after passing so many bare, dead trees she could not count them.

She was on what used to be a road. A crumbled cart was parked a few steps away from her. She let out a quiet scream when she noticed what was inside.

It was a corpse that had been chopped into pieces by something dull. The magic that had cast the land into this state of silent lifelessness had stopped its decaying and turned it dark, just as everything else. Next to the cart lay a pickaxe and beside it was another corpse. This one seemed untouched except a single hole in the chest. The man had been killed very swiftly by magic. Frozen in his face was expression of sheer insanity that was not of this world.

Istari gave the scene one horrified look before she gathered her strength gods know from where and forced herself to stand up and stagger further. She could not stay here. She was not meant to be in this place. How she had even gotten here was a mystery to her, but not one she wanted to unveil. She just wished to escape.

It was night when she finally left the dead forest. The scenery beyond it was not much more pleasant, but at least it seemed only frozen in time and not twisted and evil. A view of a great ancient city opened before her, and on its very peak jutted out a cliff carrying an imposing temple. A statue of a man was carved into the lower part of the cliff, and it seemed to be carrying the temple on its shoulders.

Istari halted and observed the structure. At a closer look, she could spot docks in the lowest parts of the city, albeit mostly concealed by a huge dam. Strangely enough, even the docks were quiet, lifeless. Everything seemed grey, even the trees and the leaves that were still stuck to them appeared as though carved in strange, ashen stone-like substance.

She had no doubt now that she was in Enderal, as this had to be Ark, its capital. But as far as she knew, Enderal was a great trade center where people lived in relative happiness. It was not an empty, deserted land like the old Arktwend. So why, she thought, was it like this? Was she still dreaming?

For a moment, she thought of screaming, but stopped at the prospect of something unexpected jumping from behind a tree. She wanted to clench her fists, but her exhausted body would not let her. She set to walking, but her legs gave way under her and her face touched the dirt.

No, she thought desperately. This can't be… not _again_ …

With that, the world went dark.

* * *

"I'm tellin' ya, he ain't gonna snap out of it any soon," a voice rumbled. It was a heavy, nasal sound, carrying a touch of Kiléan accent. Istari did not like it for the sole reason that it had woken her up from her much comfortable slumber. She was warm and enjoyed the touch of blankets on her bare legs.

But wait…

Bare legs?!

She gasped and sat up, her eyes cracking open at once.

"Please, Atash, give him a chance. He's just trying to sort out his life. That's no easy task."

A Qyranian noble. Woman, with deep, melodic voice. Istari turned after the voice and her assumption proved right. A dark-skinned woman was sitting by a fireplace, her beautiful slender face lit by the merrily dancing flames. Next to her was a man in colorful clothing, his brightly patterned tunic stretching from his shoulder down to his knees, and on the mop of his dark hair rested an equally bright hat. His face was apparently very much used to smiling, as wrinkles formed between his nose and lips that made him appear far too happy for the conversation he was having. Istari regarded them curiously before inspecting the room.

"Everyone is tryin' to sort out their lives, Liara," the man argued brusquely. "And they don't bother their mates dwelling on what was for years. I'm tellin' ya, the guy's done."

It was a library of sorts. Istari would vote for a school if her idea of school was correct. She had never been to one, rumors she caught from the gossiping townsfolk of Ostian being the only source of her knowledge on schools. There were bookshelves lining every wall, barely making enough room for the tall arched windows looming far above everyone's heads. Every part of the room, be it the very comfortable looking armchairs and low tables scattered about it, the bookshelves, door and window sills, carpets or the floor beneath them, was covered in entwining ornaments. The beautiful brass chandelier hanging from the high ceiling was barely visible in the faint light provided only by the fireplace. The people sitting by it with backpacks and blankets spread around seemed awfully out of place.

"You only say that because you've never been in his situation. He lost _everything_! His home, his family, his friends, his job… literally everything."

"Hey! What about us?"

The woman let out a weary sigh. "You just don't get it. Hey, look, our guest is awake!"

Both people turned to Istari. The man gave her a wide smile. "Mornin', sleepyhead. How was your night? I mean, day?"

"Uh…" Istari paused at the sound of her own voice. It had been so long since she had last spoken. She smiled timidly and squirmed in her place. "Where am I?"

"Ha!" the man explained, nearly making Istari jump in surprise. "What did I tell ya?"

Istari cocked an eyebrow.

"It's nothing," the woman chuckled. "We just made a bet on what you would say when you woke up. I bet on 'Who are you?' Guess I lost."

"Yep. The two most likely things one says when they wake up in company of two strangers."

Istari laughed. "So…"

"I must say you posed the more interesting question," the woman said and moved the blanket that was her temporary seat closer to Istari. "How in blazes you got here is a mystery."

"Naah," the man waved his hand and followed is companion's example. "It's totally normal to pop out in the middle of a godsdamned wasteland where no one's set foot for twenty months… right?"

"So… I wasn't dreaming?" Istari said. "Where is this?"

"Why Enderal, of course! D'ya know of any other place struck by strange light that sucks out all life? Cuz I don't."

"But… I wanted to live here."

The two strangers exchanged looks. There was a moment of silence before they burst into a roar of laughter.

"Oh by the gracious Light-Born, that was a good one," the woman clapped her knees. "How in blazes did you come up with this idea?"

"Well, war can force people to do some crazy things…"

"Eh?" the man gave her a scrutinizing look. "Ya don't look Kiléan to me. Not a titch. And I know a Kiléan when I see one."

"I'm Nehrimese."

"But… there ain't no war in Nehrim."

"What? How long have you been on the road?"

"Uh… about two months? Maybe a little less…"

"You do know there hasn't been a war in Nehrim for two years, do you?"

It took Istari exactly three heartbeats before she processed the information. She looked up in slow motion and her brows disappeared beneath her red hair. "I'm sorry… what did you say?"

"No war. For two years."

"I left two months ago and I'm quite certain there was one."

"Maybe you mistook an ordinary riot for war? Commoners tend to do that."

"Oh please, Liara…"

"I most certainly did not. I… say, what was it you said about Enderal having been struck by strange light or whatnot…?"

"You sure you didn't mistake two years for two months? But hey, I know Qyra is much closer to Enderal than Nehrim, but even there it was blinding. And it just… felt wrong. No way you didn't see it from wherever you were."

A sudden growl made the two people smirk. The woman quickly deposited a few pieces of dried fruits and a small linen bag full of biscuits onto the floor before Istari and gestured towards them. Istari paused for the shortest of moments before deciding that even if they wanted to poison her, she did not have much choice. She nodded her thanks, dug into the fruits and with mouth full of dates she mumbled: "Could you maybe explain?"

"What is there to explain about the Cleansing? A bunch of crazy jerks decided to destroy the world. The Prophetess sacrificed her own life to save it and our Jespar helped her. But Enderal paid the price. That's about it."

"I am still dreaming, aren't I?" Istari shook her head and ruffled her hair with her free hand while the other one was stuffing a biscuit in her mouth. "If that's it, what are you doing here?"

"A-ha, good question!" the man exclaimed and clapped his hands. "We're on an expedition. Supposedly led by Jespar Dal'Varek himself, although all that guy does is whine. I wish the Golden Queen would…"

"Atash," the woman's stern voice cut him off. She gave him a piercing look and Istari suddenly thought she wouldn't want to get on her bad side. She put the food away, pondering on what to ask next.

"So, this Jespar… he's the one who saved the world?"

"Right. Wanna meet him?"

"So, he's someone famous?"

"What? Scared to meet a celebrity?" the woman quipped with a slightly wicked smile.

"Oh c'mon, Liara, don't tease our guest. Well, just don't take it to heart if he plain refuses to speak to ya, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Istari was given a bright red robe with dark grey lining and sleeves and stylish folded collar. She inspected it with interest.

"A novice robe," the woman hurried with the explanation. "Students of the local Holy Order used to wear these until their trial. I thought they would go well with your hair."

Istari hinted a surprised smile. "Thank you."

"Welcome. I'm Liara, by the way, and that guy is Atash."

"Yo!"

"And you are…"

"Istari. Pleased to meet you." Istari bowed her head.

She was left to dress herself. The robe was slightly loose around the waist, but otherwise fit perfectly. She looked around in search of a mirror. Not being used to having one herself, she expected all great houses to host mirrors, but if there was one, it was definitely not in the library. She sighed a little and called her new companions.

They left the room and zigzagged through a set of corridors and staircases. Istari could barely see what was ahead. There were no fires, no torches or magic lights to illuminate the place, and she was forced to tread carefully and constantly grope about the walls with her hands.

"So, about this Holy Order…"

"'Twas a bunch of crazy dudes. Their supposed 'path' was everything to them. Wanna be a Keeper? Well, yer all set if yer _Sublime_ , but don't ya dare even beg if yer one of the _Manufacturers_. Can ya b'lieve that? They called the lowest class _Manufacturers_."

"They call the lowest class slaves in Nehrim," Istari uttered dryly.

"Oh… yea. Sorry 'bout that. Just… come to Qyra with us, 'kay? Ya getta know what real freedom is there."

"I'll think about it."

At last, they exited the building and found themselves in a vast courtyard. Even in the dim light of the clouded moon it was apparent that this place too was devoid of all life, turned into a mass of grey substance. Istari's stomach knotted when she spotted not one, not two, but tens of corpses scattered about the place. Men, women, even a few children had been caught in their last moments and frozen forever. She turned away, pressing her lips tightly together.

"Welcome to the End of the World," Liara said and theatrically threw up her arms. Istari watched her out of the corner of her eye and let out a silent sigh of envy. The woman was truly elegant in every aspect she could think of, and even this ridiculous gesture could be described as noble. She was something Istari always wanted to be, and something she could never become.

They descended the stairs on their left and entered a huge, half crumbled gate. A small plateau opened before them, with grass turned to the same ashen substance as the rest of the vegetation and creatures. Two smalls pedestals crowned the end of the stairs and on one of them lay unreadable remains of a book. On the far end of the plateau Istari could see a man lying in a small space that had been rid of all plants – or whatever had been left of them. His silver hair reflected the moonlight, one single beacon in the sea of darkness. Istari tilted her head to the side as curiosity overcame her. Suddenly she felt very anxious, as though something grand was about to come. She faltered.

"C'mon," Atash invited. "He ain't gonna bite you. Well, or we ain't gonna let'im." He let out a hoarse chuckle. Liara nudged him in the side with an elbow and took a few steps ahead of the others. Istari made herself follow her in silence.

"Jespar," the dark-skinned woman said gently. The man on the ground did not react.

"Jespar Dal'Varek. Are you planning on lying here in the middle of nothing forever?"

"And who cares if I do?" the man replied hoarsely, sending a wave of shivers down Istari's spine. She could almost touch the sorrow and suffering in his voice. She recalled a distant memory from her past. A man standing on the edge of a cliff. Her heart shrank. This was a voice of someone who had lost everything. A man that had given up on living.

"There is always hope," she blurted out without a second thought. Just like that time. Then she quickly covered her mouth and stepped back.

The man opened his eyes, rose on his elbows and turned his head to face the group. Istari barely noticed that Atash had caught up with them.

For a moment or two, Jespar Dal'Varek stared blankly into Istari's face. Then he jumped up abruptly and gasped.

"I-Istari," he breathed. His hand rose to make a gesture but froze in the air without finishing it. "You're… alive."

Istari cocked an eyebrow. "That I am. Uh… have we met before… sir?"

"What?" Jespar's face twisted, half in pain, half in outrage. "Please, don't joke like that. Seriously… don't."

"But I'm not…"

"Jespar, you know this woman?" Liara interrupted. In the pale light Istari could see her deep frown and clutched fists.

"Do I know this woman?" the silver hair repeated incredulously. "Do I… well yes, of course I know her. We saved the world together." The last sentence was pronounced with intensity that made Istari take a step back.

Liara and Atash gasped in unison and suddenly all eyes were on Istari. While Atash displayed a genuine interest, Liara's face was sheer rage.

"I… there must be some kind of mistake," Istari stammered. A bead of sweat made its way from her forehead to the tip of her nose.

"Of course," Liara hissed. "How I hate liars. But you know what I hate even more?"

Istari shook her head helplessly.

"Quitters." With that, the woman turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Istari to stare at her in confusion.

* * *

 _Very sorry that I didn't have time to proofread this. I'll do that later._

 _Also, I took a peek at the statistics and saw how many of you guys read this and actually even returned to this story. You're amazing, thank you!_

 _FireAndSteel:_ _Thank you! Hoping to not disappoint you._

 _Now here's a question for all of you. Should I also include Jespar's point of view or should I solely focus on Istari? I mean, Jespar is one of the main characters and his POV would make the story more complex. With only Istari, there would be more mystery to it. Both have their merits, so I'd like your opinion on that._

 _Thanks for reading and see you next time!_

 _Stay tuned!_

 _Mirwen_


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